


The Messenger's Way

by TsukiMizuko



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Blood of Zeus (Cartoon), Saint Seiya
Genre: Death in Childbirth, Demeter is Sad, Gen, Hera is Suspicious, Hermes is Overworked, Hestia is Crafty, Minor Character Death, Zeus is a DICK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28768176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsukiMizuko/pseuds/TsukiMizuko
Summary: Hermes is all too familiar with the faults of the gods, and the darkness hidden beneath the opulence of Mount Olympus. The birth of a pair of twins only serves to remind him of this.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	The Messenger's Way

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't expect to be writing this when the idea first came to me, let alone posting it. It's sort of an intro or prologue to one of my fanfiction ideas, and I decided to post it and see what people thought of it.
> 
> I should have done this when I first posted this, but I'm going to put a disclaimer here. This fic is based primarily on the Saint Seiya franchise, so for those of you who are here for the Blood of Zeus tag, it's mostly there because I borrowed some of the Greek gods as they appear in BoZ and felt the tagging was appropriate. I appologize if it's misleading, I didn't mean it to be.
> 
> For this installment you don't need to be familiar with Saint Seiya, but it will give you context for a few things I mentioned.
> 
> Sanctuary and the Saints of Athena are the property of Masami Kurumada, I do not own either of them.

Three thousand years after Zeus ordered that the gods of Olympus leave the affairs of mortals alone, and left the protection of the Earth to his daughter Athena, Hermes is one of the few gods permitted to visit Earth. His duty of carrying the souls of the dead to the Underworld means he has to be able to visit the land of the humans, rather than remaining on Mount Olympus at all times like most of the other gods. He considers himself lucky, in a way, that he still has the freedom to roam where the other gods and goddesses do not.

Not that he doesn’t love his home. Hermes has lived on Mount Olympus his whole life, and while it isn’t perfect the way humans would like to believe--being one of Zeus’ bastard children doesn’t lend itself well to gaining the respect of many of the other deities--it has its good points. Hermes has a small handful of people he cares for, and there are certainly plenty of things to keep him occupied.

Sometimes, however, being on Mount Olympus is… difficult. The gods are imperfect, and as he returns to his home after ferrying more souls to the Underworld, Hermes sees this truth in action once again.

The messenger god walks through the halls of one of the many buildings on Olympus, mouth curling down at the corners.

There is a Cosmo, one of Zeus’ Angels, twisting and writhing about in the healers’ wing.

And it’s getting weaker.

Hermes reaches the door that leads into the healers’ wing, the rooms where gods and Angels alike recover from injuries. It is a rarely used room these days, the battles between gods or Angels, fought for entertainment as they are, rarely result in wounds serious enough to warrant any special healing.

This day, however, is different. One of Zeus’ Angels is with child, and it seems she is giving birth today.

Standing outside the door to the healers’ wing is Hestia, draped in a soft orange peplos with a simple belt around her waist and her typical veil draped over her head. In her arms is a bundle of fabric that Hermis quickly identifies as a swaddled infant.

But the Cosmo inside the healers’ wing is still wild. This can only mean one thing: twins.

Hestia glances up as Hermes approaches, smiling gently at him.

Out of the many gods of Olympus, Hestia is quite possibly one of the ones Hermes likes best, aside from his twin half-siblings Artemis and Apollo. Unlike many of the other gods--those who are not also bastards of the king of the gods--Hestia has always been kind to Hermes and his many siblings. They are by no means close, but Hestia does not blame any of them for their father’s misdeeds.

For all that the gods often preach kindness to the humans, it is a trait that Olympus is sorely lacking.

“Hello Hermes,” Hestia greets him.

“Lady Hestia,” Hermes answers, bowing respectfully to the goddess. “How is Colette?”

It’s not really a question he wants to ask, but he doesn’t really have a choice. Apollo has been looking at the female Angel with a look of pain on his face for weeks, and Hermes himself is developing an increasingly bad feeling the more he senses Colette’s Cosmo.

Hestia purses her lips, a frown marring her brow. “She is… it has been difficult. Artemis and Demeter are with her.”

Hermes nods, glancing at the door.

“Would you like to see?” Hestia asks quietly. It takes the messenger god a moment to comprehend the question, but after a moment realizes she means the baby.

Hermes hesitates. Children are not part of his domain, and he has very little interest in them, all things considered. That being said, he is curious.

Stepping closer, the brunet leans over Hestia’s arm. The baby is wrapped securely in the blanket such that Hermes can only see its head. Similar to the newborn infants he often sees when he visits the mortal world, this one is small and fragile-looking, all red, squishy cheeks as it sleeps. A tuft of fluffy, violet-blue hair tops its head, a perfect match to its mother’s

“A boy or a girl?” he asks, suddenly curious.

“A boy,” Hestia answers, a faint smile pulling at her lips. “His sibling should be joining us soon.”

Hermes nods. “And the father?” he queries. In all the time she has been with child, Colette has never named the father of her child, and no one, deity or Angel, has stepped forward to claim the title.

It’s concerning, to say the least.

Hestia sighs. “No one has stepped forward. And I suspect no one will.”

The door to the healers’ wing opening interrupts the conversation before it can continue, and the two gods turn as Demeter steps out, a second bundle of fabric in her arms.

One look at the look of the blonde goddess’ face and Hermes knows something is wrong.

Beyond the door, inside the healers’ wing, Colette’s Cosmo is still.

A single questioning look from Hestia is enough to draw a sigh from her sister’s lips. “Another boy,” she answers the silent question, a strained smile making its way onto her lips.

Hermes leans over to take a look at the second child, and is unsurprised to find that it--he--looks no different from his twin brother, though his little tuft of hair lacks the violet tint that his brother’s has, being more of a straight blue.

“What about Colette?” Hestia questions her sister.

Demeter’s face crumples, and she shakes her head helplessly. Glancing at Hermes, she adds, “I know you just returned from the Underworld, but your services will be needed again.”

Hermes nods silently. He takes no particular joy in his duty of taking souls to the Underworld, but he carries it out nonetheless.

Several pairs of footsteps draw the attention of the trio of immortals to the hallway opposite of the direction Hermes had come from.

Zeus, Hera, and several other gods are approaching.

Hermes suppresses a wince at his father’s expression. Zeus looks grim, angry even. Not a good sign.

“Show me the children,” the god of lightning commands.

Demeter and Hestia step forward obediently, showing their brother the twins.

Zeus’ expression darkens. “The mother?”

“She didn’t survive,” Demeter answers. “Zeus-”

“Throw them off Olympus.”

Silence falls. Hermes stares.

“What?” Hestia breathes, shocked.

“Throw them off Olympus,” Zeus repeats impatiently. “We do not have space here for infants with no parents.”

It’s a sharp reminder that the identity of twins’ father has yet to be discovered.

“Zeus,” Hestia says, quickly recovering herself, “Please don’t be hasty. Being thrown off Olympus is a death sentence!”

“Carrying these children was a death sentence,” Zeus responds darkly.

Hermes keeps his face clear of any horror or shock as he reads the underlying message.

I will not have children whose mother died giving birth to them living here.

Both the goddess of the hearth and the goddess of the harvest seem reluctant to follow their brother and king’s orders, but neither do they have a good or solution.

Hermes, however, does.

“Lord Zeus,” he speaks up quickly, stepping forward. “If I may?”

The king looks at him, gaze not softening in the slightest. “Speak, Hermes.”

His voice is crisp and sharp, a tone Hermes is all too familiar with. His father has always been fonder of Artemis and Athena, with their warrior tendencies, than he has been of Hermes or even Apollo.

“Let me take the infants to the mortal world,” Hermes requests. “I will find a family to raise them, one that will care for them well. Let them live out their lives peacefully.”

Zeus stares coldly at the messenger god for what seems like an eternity, but is likely only a few short moments.

“Leave immediately,” he orders Hermes, “And be quick. You have a soul to ferry to the Underworld.”

Hermes nods, and turns to the two goddesses holding the newborns. “If you would follow me, Lady Demeter, Lady Hestia.”

Neither goddess says a word as they follow Hermes out to the hill which he typically uses as a place to leave and return to Olympus. It is easy to reach with his godly speed, where the balconies that Zeus and Hera use as access points when they leave Olympus are awkward to reach without wings.

Demeter hands over the younger twin first, pausing for a moment to stare almost longingly at the little face.

Hermes can’t blame her for being saddened by the sight of the infant. Her own beloved daughter, Persephone, has been missing for three thousand years now, having never returned from the Underworld.

Between Zeus’ proclamation that the gods leave the mortal world alone unless they have business there--as Hermes often does--keeping the gods on Olympus, and the war going on between Athena and Hades leaving the Underworld near impossible to access, Demeter has been unable to go retrieve her daughter, or even find out what happened to her.

Oftentimes, Hermes thinks it’s a miracle that the world has not fallen to eternal winter, as it did when Persephone first found her way to the Underworld and decided to stay there.

Demeter steps back, gives Hermes a crisp nod, and goes to stand beside Zeus and the other gods who are watching. They don’t need to be here, but apparently the exile of a pair of innocent babes is a spectacle worth taking the time to watch.

Hestia steps forward next, and gently passes the elder twin to Hermes. As she does so, she leans in close.

“Take them to the village outside of Sanctuary.”

Hermes blinks, raising an eyebrow.

“They’ll be safer there,” Hestia explains quietly, and flicks her eyes to direct the messenger god’s attention to the watching deities.

Zeus is impassive as he watches the interaction before him, and most of the other gods wear expressions of idle interest.

Standing next to Zeus, however, clad in pale and deep purples and looking absolutely furious, is Hera.

Dread curls in Hermes’ gut. Silently, he nods to Hestia, and takes the second infant.

Hestia steps back to give him some space, and Hermes turns, bracing himself. Running while carrying the children will be awkward, but not impossible.

A moment later, Hermes takes off, streaking down the mountain side and towards Athena’s Sanctuary.

Hera believes that the reason Zeus wants the infants gone from Olympus is because they are his. In banishing the twins, Zeus has made targets of them.

But the village outside of Sanctuary--Rodario, it’s called--is under the protection of the Saints of Athena. Hera will be hard pressed to get near without revealing herself to the Saints.

And besides, these infants are the sons of an Angel. Even in the short time he’s been near them, Hermes can sense the latent potential they both hold.

The messenger god does his best to ignore just how familiar that potential is.

Once they’re old enough, these two will likely be recruited to become Saints themselves. It won’t be the safest life; Athena is due to be reborn sometime in the next few decades, and these two have the potential to become members of the strongest order of her warriors: the Gold Saints. Chances are, they will be among those who fight when Hades and Poseidon awaken again, which means they’re likely to die long before they get to live a full life, especially given the sign under which they were born.

But they will be safe from Hera’s unjust wrath.

It is night when Hermes arrives in the village of Rodario, and he remains unnoticed as he slips between buildings and down side streets to a very specific house.

He’d been here just recently, retrieving the soul of an infant that had passed away just a few short weeks after her birth. He remembers the devastated look on the mother’s face as he watched her stand over the tiny grave.

She will, he hopes, take these infants in and raise them as her own, at least until Sanctuary comes for them.

Perhaps it is cruel of him to give her the chance to raise children, knowing that they will likely be ripped away from her in just a few short years, but Hermes doesn’t have time to search out another family to take them in. He must return to Olympus to retrieve Colette’s soul and take it to the Underworld, and Zeus will be suspicious if he takes too long.

Reaching the house where the woman and her husband reside, Hermes places the twins on the ground in front of the door, careful to be sure they won’t be hit by the door when it opens.

The moment they’re out of his arms, the babes--both of them--start to whimper and cry.

Hermes winces at the sound and moves quickly, rapping his knuckles sharply on the door several times before stepping back, pulling up his hood to turn invisible and staying well out of the way as he watches.

Several moments pass, but eventually the door creaks open and the woman peeks out.

She looks only slightly better than she did the last time Hermes saw her, eyes a little less swollen, face a little less pale.

She notices the sniffling infants almost immediately and gasps, kneeling down to take a closer look. She reaches out a shaking hand to pull the blankets back and get a better look at the pair. A look of mixed shock and joy spreads slowly across her face, and she turns back to call into the house, likely summoning her husband.

Hermes doesn’t wait to see the husband’s reaction to the infants, instead making to return to Mount Olympus.

He has a soul to collect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment telling me what you think if you've got a moment.
> 
> Bonus Question: Who were the little ones?


End file.
